Chapter 162 Chapter 162

Chapter 162 Chapter 162
The afternoon stretched long and gray and the rain had settled into a persistent drizzle that kept the roads closed and the house wrapped in a soft, damp quiet. Mark had finally stopped checking the radar every twenty minutes and had retreated to the garage with a project that involved a lot of muttering and the occasional clank of tools. Laura moved between the kitchen and the living room, never fully still. Mia stayed on the sofa with her leg elevated, and Sophia had claimed the armchair across from her, legs tucked under her, phone face-down on the cushion beside her.

For a while they just sat in the kind of silence that didn’t need filling. Then Sophia tilted her head and looked at Mia with the expression that always meant a conversation was about to start.
“Okay,” Sophia said. “Girls’ talk a real one. Just us.”
Mia raised an eyebrow. “That sounds dangerous.”
“It’s overdue.” Sophia shifted so she was facing her more fully. “You’ve been through a lot in a very short time. The store fight, blackmail video. Veronica at the gate. The perfume ad, the lipstick panic. Your dad’s death glares, breaking your leg. And now this, Kai knocked out by something she gave him while you’re stuck here with a boot on your foot. That’s not a normal week, Mia.”
Mia let out a slow breath and stared at the ceiling for a second. “When you list it like that it sounds even worse.”
“It is a lot.” Sophia’s voice stayed even. “So talk. How are you actually doing? Not the version you give Victoria or the one you give your parents so they don’t worry.”

Mia was quiet for a stretch. Rain tapped against the window in an uneven rhythm. Somewhere in the garage a tool hit the floor and Mark swore under his breath.
“I’m tired,” Mia said finally. “Not just the leg. All of it, I came here to get distance and quiet, and instead I’ve spent half the time refreshing my phone and waiting for the next piece of bad news. I miss him and I’m angry at her. I’m frustrated that I can’t just get in a car and go check on him myself. And underneath all of that I’m still trying to remember what it felt like to sit in this house without every conversation circling back to contracts and cameras and people who want something from us.”
Sophia nodded slowly. “That’s honest, keep going.”
“I keep thinking about the way he looked on the video call this morning. Awake enough to know the phone was there, too far under to say anything. It scared me more than I wanted to admit. And then I feel guilty for being scared, because Victoria said he’s stable and the doctor already checked him and I’m sitting here in a warm house with soup on the stove while he’s the one who actually went through it.”
“You’re allowed to be scared for someone you care about,” Sophia said. “That’s not a character flaw.”

Mia picked at a loose thread on the blanket covering her legs. “I also keep thinking about how easy it was for Veronica to get close enough to do this. Security let her through. He was stressed and not sleeping and she showed up with a pill and a soft voice and the next thing anyone knows he’s been under for a full day. It makes me feel like no matter how careful we try to be, there’s always another angle she can use.”
Sophia leaned forward. “That part is valid, she’s persistent in the worst way. But Victoria is rewriting the security protocols, and Kai is not going to be as open to ‘help’ from her after this. People learn, sometimes the hard way.”
Mia almost smiled. “You’re being very reasonable today.”
“I’m always reasonable. You just usually catch me when I’m being protective first.”
Sophia sat back again. “Can I ask something without you getting defensive?”
“Depends on the question.”
“Do you think this thing with Kai is still just the contract for you? Or has it moved past that in a way you can’t take back?”

The question sat between them for a few seconds. Mia didn’t look away from her friend.
“It’s moved past that,” she said quietly. “I don’t know exactly when it happened. Maybe Bora Bora or maybe the night after the race when everything felt quieter. Maybe somewhere in the middle of all the fighting and the forced proximity. But it’s not just a contract anymore. Not for me and I don’t think it is for him either. That doesn’t mean it’s simple. It just means it’s real.”
Sophia studied her face, then nodded once. “Okay. That’s what I needed to hear. Because if you’re going to keep choosing this the public pressure, the family tension, the Veronicas of the world I want to know you’re choosing it with your eyes open.”
“My eyes are open.” Mia’s voice was steady. “They’re tired, but they’re open.”
Sophia’s expression softened. “Then I’m with you. Even when I want to drive to that mansion and handle Veronica myself.”
“I know you do.”
“I really do.”
They both smiled, small and tired, and the conversation drifted into lighter territory after that old stories from high school, a mutual friend who had just gotten engaged, Sophia’s ongoing complaint about her neighbor’s terrible taste in music. The kind of talk that didn’t solve anything but made the room feel less heavy.

Laura came in from the kitchen carrying a tray with two bowls of hot chicken soup. The broth was clear and golden, the surface dotted with small oil bubbles, pieces of chicken and soft vegetables visible underneath. She set the tray on the low table in front of the sofa.
“Eat while it’s hot,” she said. “You both need something proper in you after the last couple of days.”
Mia carefully sat up straighter and accepted the bowl. The first spoonful was warm and simple and exactly right the kind of food that didn’t ask for attention, just settled into the body and stayed there. Sophia made an appreciative noise and started eating without ceremony.
Laura hovered for a moment, wiping her hands on a towel. “I’m making another pot tomorrow morning before you leave. Assuming the roads are clear. It’s better fresh, and you’ll want something solid for the drive.”
Mia looked up. “That would be good. Thank you.”

She didn’t say it was for Kai. She didn’t say she was already thinking about the look on his face when he was well enough to sit up and eat something made in a kitchen that had nothing to do with the mansion or the team or the cameras. She just nodded and took another spoonful of soup, Laura seemed satisfied. She left them with the bowls and the quiet instruction to finish everything, then disappeared back toward the kitchen.
Sophia waited until her footsteps had fully faded before she turned to Mia with a slow, knowing smile. “You’re bringing him the soup.”
Mia kept her eyes on her bowl. “I’m bringing soup. For the drive and for whenever.”
“Uh-huh. ‘Whenever’ meaning the second you’re back in that house and he’s awake enough to hold a spoon.” Sophia’s grin widened. “You didn’t even hesitate when she offered. You just said thank you like you’d already planned it.”
“It’s good soup.”
“It’s excellent soup. And you’re going to watch him eat it and feel some kind of soft domestic emotion you’re not ready to name out loud.”
Mia shot her a look. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“I’m enjoying the fact that you’re packing homemade chicken soup for a man who used to make you want to set his car on fire, growth.” Sophia took another bite, still smiling. “It’s cute don’t worry. I won’t tell him you requested it specifically.”
“I didn’t request it specifically.”
“You quickly accepted when your mother said she would make it tomorrow before you leave, that’s fishy. A soft, polite, ‘please feed the man I’m worried about’ request.”

Mia shook her head, but there was no real heat in it. She finished the bowl slowly, the warmth of the soup settling under her ribs alongside the leftover worry and the quieter, steadier thing that had started to feel like care. Everything kept moving in ways that felt a bit faint to her, the clink of spoons, and Sophia’s occasional teasing, the distant sound of Mark working in the garage, and the knowledge that tomorrow, if the roads allowed it, she would leave with a container of her mother’s soup and a broken leg and the hope that Kai would be awake enough to meet her at the door.